Chosen
by themalfoypuppet
Summary: In the darkest hours Hermione finds she is the mother to Draco Malfoy's child. And no one would've guessed the power behind a small child born in the middle of a war.
1. Prologue

**Author Notes:** So I got this idea last night, and so 'Chosen' was born. I might not finish this because I'm a lazy slob but I'm hoping to. The current setting of the story is Voldemort has taken over and the 'Chosen One' Harry Potter is dead. Everyone is close to giving up and going into hiding.

**Disclaimer:** If Harry Potter was mine it wouldn't have been so awesome

**Pairing:** Draco/Hermione

Thanks to those who mentioned how I had got the dates a bit wrong. I don't even know what was going through my head when I wrote it!

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><p>"<em>The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."<em>

_Sybill Trelawny _

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><p><strong>23<strong>**th**** December 1997**

Hermione Granger sat in her bathroom with shaking hands. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. It was impossible. This was not the time for this to happen. It was bad enough Voldemort was ruling the country and her best friend Harry's body buried in Godric's Hollow but this was too much. She couldn't do this.

It was just a fling. A desperate plea for some attention, to show that the whole world wasn't too bad. It wasn't meant to mean anything. Nothing was to come after it. She needed love, he needed love and they were there for each other. Alone in Hogwarts, before it was burnt down two weeks later. And now sitting in her bathroom at home she was facing the consequences. And Merlin she was scared.

What was she going to tell everyone who were planning one last fight against Voldemort, that she couldn't participate because she was… She shuddered, she couldn't even face the word that was scaring her more than the prospect of Voldemort.

And that's when the tears came, warm salty tears poured down her pale face, dripping off her chin. And then sobs wracked her body as she curled up on the toilet seat, begging for this to all be a horrible, _horrible _dream. But she knew it wasn't, she knew this was going to happen.

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><p>George and Fred sat in Grimland Place, studying the Black family tapestry. "Look I can see Tonk's baby," Fred said pointing to a black and white fetus underneath 'Nymphadora Lupin' and 'Remus Lupin'.<p>

"That's weird," George replied. He looked across the tapestry and scowled, "Malfoy." But then he frowned, "Fred… look at this."

Fred walked over to George, his eyebrows raising at the black and white fetus underneath 'Draco Malfoy'.

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><p>Hermione breathed heavily, trying to stop the horrible cries coming from her. Crying wasn't going to do anything about it, it wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't going to change the fact that she was two months pregnant with Draco Malfoy's child.<p>

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><p><strong>29th July 1998<strong>

Hermione cradled Matthew Percival Granger in her arms, wishing for a better world for him.

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><p><strong>Don't judge the story on the length of this prologue. It's just to set the theme of this story. And this is more than just a Hermione gets pregnant story. <strong>


	2. Duobus post annis

**Chosen**

**Author Notes:** Thank you for those who mentioned my slip up with the dates in the prologue. I don't know what was going through my mind. Though to be fair I did write the ending before adding the beginning.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter and if I did why would I be writing fanfiction?

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><p><strong> <strong>Chapter 1: Duobus post annis (Two Years Later)<strong> **

**15****th**** October 2000**

They had gone through two safe happy years together, her and Matthew in the newest order safe house which was in the North of Scotland. It was a large house in the middle of the woods so Matthew could have a breath of fresh-air once and awhile, protected by Dumbledore himself with wards allowing for a nice walk in the woods. The house was large enough for mother and child with a few guests as well. This was so if someone needed to go into hiding they could stay with Hermione and Matthew.

Matthew never seemed troubled by the isolation him and his mother sometimes had to bear in dark months when Voldemort was at his worst, he was happily ignorant of the terror which lay outside his home. He'd only notice when his mother was crying, being quite advanced for a two-year-old he'd snuggle up to his mother and wait until she was playing cars with him again. And then he'd be running about, squealing and screaming once again his blonde curls flying everywhere.

And everything changed in a few seconds.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Once again I must ask for you to offer up your home to a few of our newest members who may be in the most danger. I'm sure you'll have no problem dealing with two extra mouths to feed. These are two men who have defected from Voldemort and have decided to accept our protection though they are still unsure of fighting for us – Minerva _

_Minerva is holding back vital information I'm afraid. One of them is Draco Malfoy. He knows nothing of Matthew so I'm sure you have some explaining to do. I'm sorry for this being so sudden but he will be here on the 16__th__. Blaise Zabini will also be joining him, you know the git I dated in my sixth year and he ended up to be as gay as a sparkly rainbow? Yeah him. - Ginny _

_Good luck with those tossers, and when can I see my godson? – George_

Hermione suddenly got a splitting headache as she held the letter with shaking hands. It was all so sudden. She never planned to see Malfoy's face ever again. Even if they both survived the war she didn't plan to ever have to confront him about his son, though she knew that would be unjust. Honestly she felt Malfoy had no right to know Matthew, she felt he couldn't be a good father to him. She planned to raise Matthew with help from his godfather George Weasley.

George had been consumed by grief after Fred died; he wouldn't speak, eat or sleep. Ginny figured he was only living because that's what Fred would've wanted. The family was torn, it was like they had lost two sons rather than one. Molly distanced herself from her son, Hermione knew it was because of his resemblance to Fred. Her respect for Molly dipped very much that day. So she went up to Ginny when she was four months pregnant and said, "I'm going see George." And left.

At first there was silence, where they'd sit at the kitchen table playing with their fingers. Then the next day Hermione poured some tea and placed it in front of him. "Drink." And after a few minutes his fingers wrapped around the mug and lifted it to his lips. He recoiled. "Sorry, I always make my tea hot. I never really liked it until now, I get these cravings from the little one."

And then she brought tea in for the next few days, then she brought small cupcakes with the command, "Eat." And he did. Then he allowed her to sit next to him, pulling a chair beside him.

And after a month he finally said, "So how did Malfoy knock you up then?" And then slowly he came back to life. It would a lie to say he wasn't still grieving, Hermione knew he'd always grieve but he was happy again he was no longer a broken boy. And to her surprise and everyone else's George and Hermione formed a bond they'd never expect to have.

And then when Matthew was born there was no hesitation when she said, "Hey Georgie, meet your godson." She wished she could've taken a picture of the look on his face. And now there was no hesitation as she scribbled a note to him saying;

You get to see Matt right now if you help me get ready for my doom – Hermione

He was there in a flash. Giving her a smug lop-sided grin. He hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, "Getting a bit dramatic there. Malfoy is not smart enough to create your doom. Only I can do that."

She slapped his arm and pulled away, "Get inside and see Matt, you prat." He tutted and muttered something about 'woman' and 'violence' before walking into her house. She followed him in, "You're a horrible influence on poor Matthew."

"Poor Matthew? _Poor _Matthew? He's the little bugger who poured salt into my tea last week when I wasn't looking! Honestly I have no doubt he would've been a Slytherin." Hermione grimaced, they'd never know now. Voldemort was rebuilding Hogwarts for purebloods only, raising them to be Death Eaters. There was no chance in hell of Matthew having the wonderful years in Hogwarts he'd grow up to learn about, he'd have to be tutored by mostly his mother.

George has settled himself on the ground just before Matthew trampled over to him, throwing him small arms around his freckled neck, "Dorge!"

"Hey little man, been good to your mother?" George asked running a hand through Matthew's pile of curls. Matthew giggled in return. "No, didn't think you were."

Hermione smiled weakly, "Knocked over my mother's china this morning. I had a fit and nearly forgot I could use reparo." The boy giggled again and tore himself from George's arm to return to his collection of toy cars and car garage.

"So where will you be keeping Malfoy and Zabini?" George asked.

She shrugged, "Does it matter?"

"It could. Malfoy could be one of those people who spends _hours _in the shower so you don't want him near the bathroom."

Hermione smirked, "Yes, I'd _hate_ to know one of those people." She gave a pointed look to her ginger friend.

"Mum's worse," he muttered.

Hermione sat down beside him, "Yeah well I'm planning to keep those two as far away as me as possible. Malfoy can have his precious bathroom if he wants."

"Do you want me to stay over when they come in case Malfoy has a bitch fit?" asked George becoming uncharacteristically serious.

Hermione smiled again, "I'm sure I can control a bitching Malfoy, George."

"I dunno, those Malfoy's are crazy blondes," George said, turning back to his lop-sided grin. Hermione smiled but did not respond. "You sure you're going to be okay?" She nodded. "Then why did you invite me over?"

Her smile slipped off, as she said in a small voice, "Because I'm freaking out."

"Let it all out honey."

Hermione hesitated but then it was all pouring out of her, "This wasn't meant to happen. I don't need this. Matthew doesn't need him. Matthew's never asked about his father because you're as good as one! I never thought I'd ever have to tell Malfoy about him, I just hoped I could pass him off as mine and some muggle's and say he inherited my mum's hair even though her hair in black. Matthew's only two! He won't understand what's going on! I-I just don't know how I'm going to do it. Malfoy's probably under a lot of stress already, what with betraying You-Know-Who-" Everyone was fully aware of the taboo, "-and now he has to stay with one of the people he hates most in the world, the person he hasn't seen hide nor hair of since he shagged her and then I'm going to be like 'Oh and I forget to mention. I got pregnant with your son and he's now two-years-old and in the other room!'"

George stared at her for a long time, calculating her. She was about to speak again when he said, "I think you need a drink."

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><p><strong>16<strong>**th**** October 2000**

Draco sat by the windowsill of a grubby motel watching a fly with a broken wing climb up the smudged window. It lasted nine seconds before falling back down. The stupid thing, tried to climb up again. Seven seconds. The bug was attempting to get out of the closed window again. Three seconds. It was getting tired.

The fly was doomed to try again and again to try and get out into the world through the window, yet it would end up climbing up and falling. Until it died. Draco envied the fly, its ignorance and its short life. He wished he could die but at the same time he was running from it. He was in a numb state, not caring or knowing where the Order was taking him. All that existed to him was the present, the fly crawling up the window again and the horrible memories of the previous months that hid in the shadows of the filthy room. He was barely aware of Blaise lying on the small sofa. You'd think he was sleeping if you didn't see his cold eyes staring endlessly.

Numbness was a gift and a curse at the same time. It protected you from the terrors, from the pain but it left you with nothing. Nothing to do and no motives. It gave everything a dark veil, it made bright colours grey and it made happiness an impossibility.

An auror he could place no name on in came into the motel room carrying a paper bag. Draco supposed it as best that there was no familiarity except for Blaise seeing as he could not recognise the empty silver orbs staring at him through the mirror. The dark haired auror placed a bundle in front of him. Draco scanned it and it's greasy spots before the scent of food brought him to unfold the paper. Fish and chips. Mother would've never approved of this 'beggar's food'. He winced, no amount of numbness could block out her screams.

He sat silently as he heard either the auror or Blaise ruffle through their paper folds and eat their food. Until he could no longer resist the fumes of the greasy foods as he took a chip in his hands gingerly. He willed himself not to think of his mother and her high regard of manners. As soon as the salt has reached his taste buds he realised just how hungry he was. He ignored his discomfort with the oil on his hands and forcefully shovelled chips into his mouth, then he moved onto the fish. He reminded himself of Weasley.

Then he wondered if that's where he was being taken, to rough it with the Weasels. The thought of having to suffer through weeks and months of annoying freckled gingers made him want to empty his stomach on the already dirty ridden floor. Why were they subjected to staying in this place before they were taken to their new residence? Were they really hated that much or was there some half-wit idea about their safety going on.

He honestly hated the Order. It was filled with corrupt Potter worshipers who wanted nothing more than him burning on the stake. But they were his only chance of staying alive until the end of this war. But he doubted they would win, they already lost their poster boy and Voldemort had control over nearly everything. There was just a few aurors he had no claim over. He just hoped he was being sent to a remote enough place to spend the rest of his life in without fear.

Draco didn't know why he hadn't committed suicide. He had thought about it enough times but he was never drawn from it. He-

"We're going." Draco turned, the auror had gotten Blaise off the sofa and was now staring uninterested at his watch.

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><p>A loud crack echoed through the garden and Hermione nearly dropped the bottle she was handing to Matthew. They were here.<p>

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><p><strong>So how did I do?<strong>


	3. Smash

**Chosen**

**Author Notes: **Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. Yes, I have not replied to any reviews yet but I may do in the future. This chapter is mostly in Draco's POV, just a heads up. Oh and I won't be updating for a bit because I'm going on holiday tomorrow (I got this chapter out today for a reason) and I'll be gone for about two weeks.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter isn't mine, blah blah blah

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Smash<strong>

**16****th**** October 2000 **

Draco scanned the forest area, it was well kept, and flowers of all colours bloomed at his feet and in the flower pots sitting outside the house. The house itself was nothing compared to Malfoy Manor but it was oddly welcoming and he felt he'd have no problem living in a house like this for a while. Well… that depended on who lived inside. Blaise also looked a bit relieved that this was not another grubby motel as they followed the auror towards the house.

As they got closer Draco could hear the squeals of a small echoing from somewhere near, was he staying with a family? He didn't like the idea of that. He assumed then he must be staying with his cousin, the one he never met. Didn't his mother- wince- speak of her having a child?

The auror's spirits seemed to have lifted at the sound of the child as he tapped the door with his wand muttering something Draco couldn't quite catch. Then he could hear a muffled ring go through the house and the door was ripped open revealing a very pale looking Hermione Granger. Her eyes immediately swayed towards him.

"Here they are," the auror said indicating to him and Blaise.

Granger looked back at the auror, "Thanks David. You want to come in for a cup of tea?" Her voice wobbled.

David looked a bit wistful, "I wish. Kingsley wants me back at Headquarters immediately. Apparently he's got _another_ mission for me."

She smiled weakly, almost nervously, "Well you _are_ the best. I'll try and see if I can get Kingsley to let you off sometimes. You need a break and you know we have more than enough rooms… Well I suppose I shouldn't leave my… guests out here all night." She was looking at him again.

"Yes… Well I'll hopefully see you soon," David smiled at her and nodded at him and Blaise before disapperating.

Granger's eyes flickered between the two of them, before silently indicating for them to go indoors. Oh this was going to be a fabulous stay. When inside they stood awkwardly in the hallways until she said, "Are you hungry?" This polite act was just getting annoying.

"We just ate," said Blaise shortly.

"Ah. Well good. I'll show you to your rooms," she said, her eyes locking onto him again before turning and leading them down a bright hallway decorated with pictures of her, Potter and the Weasleys. Then there was a picture of a child with curly blonde hair giggling as he tried to get on a toy broom. That must be the child he heard earlier.

They turned down another hallway; this one had dull wobbly lines running across the cream wallpaper, like a child had drawn on it. There was more pictures of the curly haired boy, sitting on someone's lap grinning with small teeth, another when he tried to hide in Granger's hair peeking out at the camera, sitting in a high chair with that Weasley twin beside him pulling a goofy face. Draco came to a slow realisation that this was probably Granger's. Or at least some sort of family member. He recognised Granger's eyes in his in one picture when the child was crawling towards the camera and the bouncy curls were a huge give away.

He felt like his tired brain was missing something important about this, something hiding in the back of his mind that he couldn't just reach. Something about the kid struck him, like he'd seen him before but… he hadn't. It was something in the grin of that child, the look in his eye when he dug his hand into his birthday cake. What was it?

"Blaise?" Granger asked, "You're going to be in here." She opened a door and gestured for him to go in. "I've had some of my friends donate some clothes so you can change them with magic if you want. You'll find them in that wardrobe over there." He nodded and walked in closing the door behind him. She stared at Draco again. Did he have something on his face? "Malfoy. You're just here." She showed him to the door. "The same goes for you about clothes." She watched him as if she had something else to say. "Well. That's it." And she then she was gone.

The door closed with a quiet click. Draco stood still taking in the room. There was a minty smell which oddly enough calmed him. There was a wooden desk, a wooden wardrobe and the bed was wooden too with a plump, spotless mattress, white sheets and cream blanket. And there was a window, where the pink and purple glow from the sunset could creep in. Granger didn't go halfway with this place. He walked around a bit, pushing open a door which led to a bright bathroom. It was the most welcoming place, the first place he'd felt safe in for a long time. He went and sat on the bed gingerly, and took off his worn shoes and placed them carefully on the wooden floor. He didn't know why he was being so neat; he supposed it felt wrong to ruin the room. He stripped down and went into the bathroom. Before walking into the shower he caught sight of his reflection. Sunken eyes, heavy purple bags under his eyes, badly healed nose, scarred lip, and a lace of scars around his chest. Also he really needed a good wash.

He opened the door to the shower, and turned it on. Scorching water sprayed out immediately and the feeling of the burn as it ran down his skin brought life rushing back into him. This was something real, something to feel. He slowly turned, letting it touch every part of him, letting it melt away the numbness. He let out a sigh.

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><p>He had nightmares again that night. He twisted and turned in his sleep. Sweat rolled down his neck.<p>

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><p>She cried out as she saw Harry disappear into dust before her again. "No! Come back! Harry! <em>Harry!<em>"

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><p>Blood was on his hands. It was swimming around his feet. It was rushing out of him. It was rushing out of his mother.<p>

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><p>Matthew ran towards her crying, "Mumma!" A green light was chasing him. Tears fell down his rosy cheeks. "Mumma!"<p>

"Matthew!" She tried to run towards him but he kept get further away. Then the green light hit him and fell and turned to ash. "NO!"

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><p>A snake was making its way towards him, its teeth was red. He tried to call out but his voice was gone. It leapt-<p>

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><p>She woke up. Still crying, holding herself as she sobbed. Why would the dreams never stop?<p>

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><p>He breathed heavily, he wiped away the tears that mixed with his sweat. He worked hard on blocking out the images now flashing through his mind. His mother's hair red, her screams. He jumped off of the bed flicking on a light. He checked the room over before he sat on the bed again, rubbing his temples. What he would give for a dreamless sleep potion.<p>

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><p>She grabbed the bottle of dreamless sleep potion on her bedside table, it made her feel weak but it did its job. She lifted it to her lips.<p>

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><p><strong>17<strong>**th**** October 2000**

Morning light streamed through his window. Draco got off the bed and walked over to it, looking out he watched a bird hop along the grass until it flew away. Pink and blue flowers were scattered around, the morning dew made them look as though they sparkled in the sunlight. It was almost a triumph for those flowers to look so happy, pure and strong in a world ruled by You-Know-Who.

Then he heard voices from outside. He turned his head and for the first time noticed a patio. He could not see the owners of the voices but he could hear them very clearly.

"_Ginny…"_

"_I thought you were going to tell him."_

"_I was! I just… He looked so beat up, Gin. He looked so tired I didn't think it was the right time. He at least deserved a good night."_

"_So you'll tell him today? It's not like you can keep Matthew all hidden. You've got pictures of him everywhere."_

"_I…"_

"_Hermione."_

"_Fine. Yes."_

"_Good. Trust me, you'll feel better afterwards."_

"_You better be right."_

"_I always am." _Draco heard Granger snort_. "Oi." _

"_Come one, I have some pancakes to make. Stop being so big headed and maybe I'll make you some too."_

He heard their footsteps retreating into the house and past his door. He supposed it was breakfast time then. Draco walked over to the wardrobe and looked in it. There were several plaid shirts, stripy ones, some plain button up shirts and a large assortment of jeans. He sighed. Weasley clothes.

He sniffed one shirt, freshly washed.

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><p>Draco tried to remember the way to the front of the house where he remembered seeing a kitchen. But it was hard to dig through his murky memories. So he followed the smell of food, which led him walking blindly through the house until he came across the female Weasley.<p>

"Malfoy. Looking for the kitchen?" He hated all this politeness.

"Yes." He hated needing her help.

"Down the hall. Make a left," she said pointing behind her. He didn't nod, and he certainly didn't say thank you as he followed the direction of her finger. Where he came across Granger handing Blaise a plate of pancakes. Her head flicked towards him, he noticed she too had bags under her eyes. She pursed her lips and grabbed another plate of pancakes and handed it forcefully to him. He raised his eyebrow and walked over to Blaise and sat down at the table. He noticed the highchair at the end of the table, the felt Granger's gaze on him. He'd really like to know what the hell her problem was.

Once he was done he swiftly got up and walked into the room Blaise had disappeared into a few minutes earlier. He was sitting on a sofa gazing at a big box in front of him. "What's that?"

"I've read about it. It was a topic in Muggle Studies. It's a television."

"A what?"

"You can watch shows on it," he replied. And then they fell silent. Well it the longest conversation he'd had in a few days. Points for that. They sat there for a while. Draco watched the reflection of them in the television.

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><p>Hermione played with the food on her plate going over the words in her head. How was she ever going to tell him? It wasn't like it was her fault, by the time she knew there was no chance of her getting outside without being attacked. They had used the charm, rushed perhaps, but she couldn't have known. But still, he'd find some way to blame her. Godric, she'd never be able to do it.<p>

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><p>Draco played with a loose thread on the sofa. Granger walked into the room, studied them for a moment before asking, "Do you want it turned on?"<p>

"Does it have cartoons?" Blaise asked, not looking at her.

She looked surprised, "Of course. I didn't know you knew about-"

"I took Muggle Studies," he replied, cutting her off, "They always intrigued me."

She nodded, taking in the information. Before walking over to the television switching it on and turning it on to something she called 'Tom and Jerry'. It was strange thing about a mouse and a cat. He didn't really understand the point of it. Muggles.

"I wanted to say," continued Granger after a minute or so, "That you have freedom in this house. You can even go outside a bit, into the woods. Just don't go too far in, the wards only go so far. If you get hungry don't wait for me or anything. There's a medicine cabinet in the kitchen where's there's potions for basic healing which you have freedom to as well. If you need any help… I'm always here." Once again Granger looked at Draco like she wanted to say something.

"Problem, Granger?" he asked cooly.

She hesitated, "…No." The torn and indecisive look brought him back two years to that night when they took comfort in each other. Then something else crossed his mind. The child in the pictures… He looked about two didn't he? No… It was impossible. Stupid thought. They used the charm. Hastily though…

He leapt up and pushed past Granger and walked down the hallway, studying each picture of the blonde haired child. Blonde hair. A similar shade to his. He felt his heart rate quicken. He came across the picture of the child clawing his hand into birthday with a devilish grin on his face. A grin that had taken place on his own face several times. A grin he'd seen on his childhood pictures.

He froze. Emotions rushed through him as his war worn brain tried to process what he'd just discovered. The closed his eyes and counted to ten slowly. It didn't help. He opened his eyes and looked at the boy again. His heart was hammering against his chest. He had a son. A _son_. A possible son, he corrected himself.

He felt as if everything was upside down. He remembered the conversation between the Weasley girl and Granger he'd heard. That made sense now. And so did all of Granger's looks.

He tried to breath but the air caught on his throat. He needed to find Granger. Only she could confirm or deny this. The next few minutes were a blur as he searched the house. And then found her in kitchen scrubbing plates angrily. Very muggle. She turned to him and gave him a quizzical look. He tried to speak but no sound came out.

Granger was staring at him as if she expecting him to explode and he was wondering if he was going to do just that. His brain felt like it was fried. He couldn't think straight, he was pretty sure everything was about to start spinning.

"Malfoy? Are you alright?" she asked, frowning.

"I…uh…" He was getting agitated. 'Come on Draco! Form words!' She was tapping her foot now.

She narrowed her eyes, "Unless you need something, I'd rather you leave me alone." And she returned to her dishes.

"You got pregnant," he blurted. There was a crash as a plate smashed on the wooden floor. Granger had frozen. "Is… Is he mine?"

"Yes."

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><p><strong>Reviews?<strong>


	4. Dragons

**Chosen**

**A/N:** I'm sorry this chapter took way too long to get out. School's starting soon so updates are going to be horrible. But I'm determined to finish this story. I've got the basic plot in my head, I'm just currently writing down the finer details. And I can't thank you enough for your reviews.

**Disclaimer:** Do I look like JK Rowling? Didn't think so.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 – Dragons <strong>

"You got pregnant." He knew. _Malfoy knew_. The plate slipped from Hermione's fingers as she felt herself tense up. "Is…" Here is comes. "Is he mine?"

The words fell off her tongue before she could even think, "Yes."

There was a long silence as the two parents stared at each other. She scanned his facial expression frantically as she tried to figure out what was going through his head. Finally he exhaled, "Fucking hell, Granger."

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><p>Draco hovered by the doorway of the dimly lit room as Granger lent over a cot, as she woke up her son. His son. <em>Their<em> son. "Shhh." The child tried to roll away from her, "Come on Matthew…" Finally she was able to gently lift him. "How is it they gain more weight when they're sleepy?" she muttered, as the boy wound his small arms around her neck and lay his head on her shoulder.

"Mumma..." he complained groggily.

"I've got someone who wants to meet you," she said softly, he eyes darted towards Draco who was watching the boy with a slightly open mouth. "Let's go out into your play room alright Matt?"

"No."

Granger smiled down at him, "If he ever says no to anything don't listen to him. He just tends to answer that to anything." Draco nodded again. Granger walked past him, and he caught a glimpse of Matthew's sleepy face peering at him, his cheeks were rosy… His heart sped up. Did Granger really trust him to take a part in this child's life…? They walked into the room Blaise was in who gave them a startled look.

"I'll explain later," Draco said quickly, following Granger into the next room. They arrived in a room which was decorated with snitches and dragons. There were many toys around the room, magical and muggle. "Dagon!" Matthew cried pointing to the wall at the dragon that flew around the wall.

"Yes, that's a dragon. What does a dragon say, Matthew?" Granger asked him, setting him on the ground and sitting crossed legged in front of him.

"Rawr," the boy growled before giggling. Granger ruffled his curls. And then grabbed him when he attempted to run off.

"Matthew you've got a guest today, he'll be staying around for a while," Hermione explained seriously to the toddler. Both Matthew and Hermione turned to Draco. Two pairs of brown eyes stared at him. "Come sit down, Malfoy."

He hesitated before sitting down opposite her and Matthew in the same fashion as Granger. Matthew turned to hide his face in Granger's hair. "Shy," she explained and then turned back to her son, "Matthew, Mummy wants you to meet your guest." This was too surreal.

"Nope." Granger rolled her eyes.

"Matthew this is your-" she paused, her eyes flicked to Draco. "This is your... Daddy. You know how George's daddy is Granda Weasley-" She gave Draco a long stare as if to say 'Don't say a word.' He didn't think that would be a problem as he'd been trying to form words for several minutes now failing each time. "Well this is your daddy."

"Daday?" Matthew asked repeating his mum.

"Yes." She pointed at Draco, "That's your Daddy."

"I used to love dragons when I was a kid," Draco said, mostly to himself.

"Rawr," Matthew said in return. The edges of Granger's lips quirked.

"Are… Are you going to say hello to your Daddy?" Every time she said 'Daddy' his heart skipped a beat. And before he could realise the little boy had thrown himself into his arms.

"Ello Daday," said the boy in a sing song voice. The numbness was kicking in again.

* * *

><p>Hermione glared at Malfoy who was watching Matthew play with two dragons which kept trying to fly from his tight grip. How was he managing to be taking this so calmly? When she found out she started <em>sobbing <em>and he was just sitting there so _calmly_ like she's just told him she'd lost a pillow. And it was irritating the hell out of her.

It wasn't fair. She nearly groaned. Malfoy had once again brought her to a three-year-old level of thinking. She felt _it wasn't fair_. How come she had to go through all that stress and he doesn't. He could have at least yelled at her. She'd been preparing herself, she'd been a nervous wreck in fear of him tearing the house down and yet he was just **sitting** **there**. She wanted him to go through all the stress like she did.

Well maybe that was just it. Maybe she was going to get what she wanted, him as far away from Matthew as she possibly could. Maybe Malfoy didn't want to know Matthew and wasn't planning to stick around if he got the chance. Malfoy abruptly got up, sparing Matthew one weary glance before disappearing out of the door.

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><p>Draco pushed another branch out of his way. This was fucked up. Fate fucking hated him. It was official. You'd think Draco had enough on his plate but no. Let's just pop a child into the whole scenario. Fucking perfect. He stopping walking. He exhaled. The forest became eerily quiet, sunlight beamed in through the branches leaving spots of sunlight on the blanket of leaves. He suddenly felt very defenceless. His wand was in Granger's possession as he was still seen as a potential 'threat'. He slammed his fist into a tree.<p>

Ignoring the pounding in his hand he continued walking, and then he was running. He wanted to run from it all. He didn't want to be in charge of some kid's life. Draco didn't know how to take care of a kid. He certainly wasn't going to be an ideal role model. He'd give it a week before Granger forbid him from even looking at Matthew.

That was such a stupid name for a Malfoy child. Matthew Malfoy. It sounded like some fucking tongue twister. He guessed Granger preferred him to take her surname. Matthew Granger sounded too muggle. Someone you'd see working in a muggle shop, talking to muggles, selling muggle stuff. Not someone who was part of what used to be a totally pure-blood family. Until Draco screwed up. Draco stopped running. He was going to reach the barriers soon. And then he was really fucked.

That kid scared him. Too many details reminded Draco of himself. He couldn't help the creeping worry that Matthew Malfoy was going to turn into another Draco Malfoy. Screwing up his life since the age of eleven. He didn't want a part in this kid's life. If Draco left him alone maybe Granger could be enough of an influence to keep the kid in line. With Draco around everything was bound to fuck up.

So that's what he would do. He'd stay away.

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><p>Hermione jumped awake for the tenth time that night. It was no use trying to sleep. She was all out of dreamless sleep potion and the nightmares kept pulling awake. She was actually scared to try and sleep again. She rolled off her bed, slipping her feet into a pair of slippers, wrapping a dressing gown around her. Groggily she made her way through the house, jumping at shadows in her post-nightmare haze.<p>

She eventually made it out to the patio. She paused, scanning the forest for a threat she knew wasn't there and sat down. She titled her head back and looked up at the stars. A weak grin tugging at her lips as she recognised constellations.

The door creaked open beside her and she jumped. Malfoy's frown deepened when he saw her sitting there. He wasn't wearing a shirt. She averted her gaze and thanked god it was night time as a blush crept up her cheeks. Malfoy gave a half-hearted snort, muttered, "Prude." And pulled the other chair towards him and sank into it.

She was quite tempted to bring up the time when they slept together at that comment but refrained. She honestly wasn't in the mood to argue with Malfoy right then. They sat in silence awhile before Hermione looked back up at the stars. '_Why's Malfoy up…? Is he also having trouble sleeping?_' she wondered. Her eyes flitted towards him, he was staring blankly out to the woods a frown on his lips. '_He could be having nightmares too. Who knows what horrors he saw before he arrived here. Both him and Zabini seem a bit out of it._' She frowned. There was a word she was searching for, something that described Malfoy but for the love of Merlin she couldn't find it. It was creeping at the back of her mind.

"You know you look really stupid like that," Malfoy muttered.

She snapped around to him, her eyes narrowing, "Shut up." He shrugged. She was slightly surprised he didn't continue criticising her. It seemed he too wasn't bothered to fight. "You couldn't sleep either?" she asked hesitantly.

He sighed, "I don't think it's any of your business." She pressed her lips together before turning away from him. Malfoy had been very unresponsive since he got here. It felt familiar the way he regarded the news about Matthew with those vacant eyes. How he shrugged at nearly everything said to him. And then it clicked.

George.

George had been exactly like Malfoy after Fred's death. Numbing himself had been George's way of mourning, how he protecting himself from the shock. Was Malfoy also suffering the loss of someone close to him? She remembered Minerva had sent her a letter not so long ago telling her that Narcissa Malfoy was dead.

Her eyes flicked towards Malfoy. She frowned. Was she going to attempt melt his emotionless state? Or would that just lead to more problems…?

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><p><strong>Oh and what is this? Some sort of magic is pulling you towards the review button...<strong>


	5. Goodbyes

**Chosen**

**A/N:** I'm sorry, I suck. Hopefully more updates soon?

**Disclaimer: **If I was JK Rowling I'd have a hot tub filled with chocolate. Which is very selfish of me. The poor chocolate gone to waste… Okay. Then I'd have two billion kittens. Which is also weird since I'm allergic to them. Just forget it.

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Goodbyes<strong>

**18th September 2000**

Hermione woke up the following morning in the same wooden chair, with a very stiff neck. She groaned, Malfoy's chair was empty. She remembered when she was on the brink of sleep; he'd gotten up and left. She rubbed the back of her neck, gazing out at the sparkling green grass. What time was it? She pulled her wrist towards her and sighed as she remembered her watch was sitting on her dresser.

She reluctantly pulled herself up and made her way to her room. Fingering with her now retrieved watch at what she now knew was eight o'clock she thought about the previous day, she made sure she remembered everything that had happened before pulling the watch around her wrist.

* * *

><p>Draco tapped his fingers on the smooth wooden table. What time was it now? Half eight. The time had not changed ever since he looked at it last, two seconds ago. He blinked, his lids resisting to open again. He knew there was no point letting himself fall into the darkness, he'd only be awoken shortly by the piercing screams of his nightmares.<p>

His gaze moved around the kitchen. It was all too Muggle. How was he meant to find food without Granger placing it in front of her. Speaking of which, where was she? He was hungry. She wasn't making him food. Some hostess she was. Mother would be appalled. He froze. Swallowed. He really should stop making references to her. Not healthy.

After a silence in which Draco felt like he was being suffocated with flickering memories of his mother, Blaise walked into the room, wearing nothing but some loose trousers. "Mornin'," he mumbled sitting down next to him. Pulling himself from his thoughts Draco gave Blaise a piercing look, he couldn't seem to speak, his tongue was tied and he still felt like he was being suffocated. "Now," his friend continued, "Are you going to tell me what yesterday was about?"

Draco struggled, it seemed like an age had come and go before he managed to explain everything about Matthew. His head felt fuzzy and the words were coming out wrong but by Blaise's face he could tell the message was coming through.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, "I mean, that's your first born, and a son. That's everything you could wish for."

"He's illegitimate, Blaise. And I'm not going to do _anything_. Granger can have him. If I ever get out of this war alive I'm finding myself a decent wife and we'll have our own kids. I don't want a half-blood son, anyway," Draco said, his brain seemed to be working again.

There was quiet for a while before Blaise grumbled, "Where is Granger anyway? I'm bloody starving."

"What did you say?" came the voice of Granger herself as she entered the room, already dressed.

"I was just complimenting your lovely kitchen," Blaise said sweetly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

Granger snorted, "Right. If by complimenting you mean complaining. And by lovely kitchen you meant my lack of making you breakfast." The playfulness in her voice took Draco off guard and the way Blaise laughed made him feel cold and slightly lonely. Since when were Blaise and Granger like that.

Blaise caught Draco's expression and leaned towards him, saying quietly as Granger began preparing some breakfast, "Remember how I dated Ginny Weasley? Well during that time Granger and I sorta made a truce. She isn't that bad you know."

Draco frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "Not that bad?" he asked, "She's a pain in the arse."

"You two haven't even had a proper conversation. Don't judge a book by its cover and lack of taste in friends," Blaise said lightly, earning him a scowl.

Suddenly the kitchen was filled with the sound of sizzling bacon and eggs and Draco found himself transfixed on what Granger was doing, as he had house elves he never saw how this food was made. The smells that wafted in the air reminded him just how hungry he was and he became very impatient. By the time Granger actually placed a plate of food in front of him he was extremely irritated so without even acknowledging her he scoffed up his food and left. But not before he heard Granger mutter sarcastically, "What all ball of sunshine he is." Thus making Blaise chuckle. An anger for the pair of them flared up. He felt like a three-year-old as a voice in his head moaned about Granger and Blaise, how they had suddenly ganged up on him. Or that's what it felt like.

So by the time he slammed his door shut he was fuming, his hands balled up into fists. But the worse part was, was that he didn't even know why he was that mad. It was just the smallest things that were setting him over the edge. He loathed Granger for having that effect on him, being able to pull such emotions from him without even trying. He didn't know what he would do the day Granger actually aimed to get an emotion from him.

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><p><strong>19th September 2000<strong>

Hermione was sitting on the sofa as Matthew leaned against her legs, watching a show she found oddly interesting called Tom & Jerry when George appeared at the doorway. "Those spare keys finally arrived then?" she asked casually, ignoring the fact he almost gave her a heart attack.

"Yup," he glanced at the TV, "Oh it's that show again?"

"Mhhmm," she replied watching Tom getting hit on the head with an ironing board, "He's quite taken with it."

"Yeah and so are you," he said whilst throwing a pillow in her direction. She smirked and threw it back at him. He turned to Matthew, "You're mother is a horrible influence on you, Matt. Did you just see her? She threw a pillow at me!"

She rolled her eyes, "Don't try turning my own son against me, it won't work!"

"Sure it won't," he said with a wink, finally taking a seat next to her. He pulled a crumpled folded up piece of paper from out of his pocket and handed it to her, "It's this week's news. Don't read it yet, I want to talk first."

She stared at it blankly, knowing that is held pain and sadness before taking it and slipping it in the pocket of her cardigan. "Anything you want to talk about specifically or just the usual?"

He shrugs playfully before asking seriously, "How are you holding up?"

Hermione's turn to shrug, "I'm not ripping my hair out…. Yet," she adds, "But it's only the third day. Who knows what trouble will stir up?"

"I suppose. I won't be around much this month," he said apologetically, "The order need me in Scotland, looking for Ron, Luna, Neville and again. I'll be back at the end of October."

Hermione frowned; it had been a year since they last saw Ron, Luna and Neville. They'd gone out for a celebratory dinner as they had captures four popular Death Eaters and gotten very good information out of them. However before they were able to relay this information to the Order they vanished. "I'm sorry to hear that… I'll miss you."

He gave a weak grin, "I wish I could be here, to help support you with this."

She shook her head, "No, no. You need to go, my silly little problems are nothing compared to this. Do they have some sort of lead on where they are?"

"I…" George shook his head, "It's not really a lead, just a guess. They're sort of giving up."

"They can't!" she cried, "The Death Eaters wouldn't kill them! They know how valuable they are to us. They're just waiting for the right time to bait us with it."

"I know that. You know that. But they're getting tired. They're starting to think it's a waste or resources," he said sadly.

"But they were the best! They were the perfect team! And they're our _friends_!"

"This is a war, Hermione. They don't care who your friends are."

"I swear if I was allowed in headquarters..." she muttered furiously.

George grinned, "You'd be killing people, I know. But you're not allowed. So you'll just have to imagine killing all of them, maybe Matty will paint you a picture, eh?" He ruffled Matthew's hair, he paid no attention but to the cat and mouse on the telly.

She made a face, "I told you not to call him that, it sounds horrible."

"Yeah whatever there is no taming me, Granger!" He pulled out a small pocket watch and grimaced, "Bloody hell, I'm late to a stupid meeting about the search." He looks at her, putting it away. "I've got to go."

She had now realised that this was the last time she could be seeing him, he could be killed. They get up in silence, she placed Matthew on the sofa and George gives him a kiss on the head. As they reach the front door George and Hermione meet each other's gaze and she threw herself into his arms. "You better come back or I'll bring you back from the dead just to kill you again."

He kissed her cheek and winked at her, "You know me."

"That's not reassuring, George."

"Whatever, sis." As she untangles herself from him she smiles, George started calling her that a few months back and it was only right as George was just like an older brother to her as she was like another Ginny to him.

"Be safe," she says, more seriously. And he nods, giving her one last smile before walking into the woods and she waits in the doorway until she hears the faint crack of disapparition.

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><p>Sorry that was short, promising a longer chapter next time and there will be more DracoHermione action!

Reviews?


	6. Rings

** Chosen**

**A/N:** Oh my god! Two chapters in two days! What kind of world are we living in? I don't update in months and suddenly I give you two chapters! Oh and I'm sorry for inflicting my never dying love of Tom & Jerry on Matthew.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise from JK Rowling's Harry Potter series

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><p><strong>Chapter Five - Rings<strong>

**19th September 2000**

After George had gone Hermione lingered at the open doorway, letting herself get swallowed by the silence. She slipped her hands into her pockets and her left hand fell upon the envelope, her heart sank. The envelope felt heavier than usual, which could've only mean bad news. She took one last scan of the surrounding trees before closing the door and settling next to Matthew on the sofa who was absorbed once again in Tom & Jerry.

With shaking hands she opened it and a small package fell out, with a scrap of parchment. She frowned; she'd told them not to and after a lot of fighting they finally agreed. So why? She took the parchment and in Ginny's scrawl it read,

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know you don't want us to celebrate your birthday today as a mark of respect but Ron told me before he left to give you this if he isn't back by this time. He told me not to explain it, that you'd understand. He said this is going to hurt you and I'm sorry. But I promised him. _

_Love, Ginny_

The box itself was wrapped in sparkling wrapping paper; she knew what was under it. Her breath had become shallow as she tore away the paper, revealing a rounded black box. She flicked it open and there lay a ring, it was Harry's mother's ring. It had been found in their seventh year in Remus' house when he was moving out. Harry always kept it on a chain around his neck and when he died Ron took it and wore it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, if Ron had wanted her to have it now he thought he was sending her a message, 'If I'm not back by this time, I'm dead.' But he did make it back. For only a moment before he was taken away from her again.

"Mumma?" Matthew climbed onto her lap, frowning. Saying nothing she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his head. He snuggled further into her, he was used to her tears but that didn't mean he liked them.

"I love you," she said so softly she might as well been whispering, "I'm not losing you Matthew, I'm going to keep you so safe until this is all over. You're such a smart little boy already. You're going to have a great life." She knew he didn't quite understand what she was saying but it comforted her to say it to him anyway. He might not have a father who loved him but he would always have her love.

When the tears stopped, Matthew wriggled from her and continued watching his show. She smiled weakly; she wouldn't have to worry about him there was a Tom & Jerry marathon today. She looked down at her side where the ring case had been knocked aside by Matthew and her smile faded. She picked it up and took out the right, under the pillow it sat on there was a silver chain. She looped it through the ring and put it around her neck. She closed her eyes. One year. One year exactly since they'd disappeared. One year ago she was getting ready to meet them at her favourite restaurant, first time she was allowed outside the house since coming there, first time Matthew would leave this house. She had been ecstatic; she'd been worrying over them for months. She remembers it all too well…

* * *

><p><strong>19th September 1999<strong>

Hermione took one last look in the mirror, fixing her hair, grinning at her reflection. They were really back; oh she'd missed them so much. She swept by Matthew and kissed his head, "You excited to be going out in the world?" He rambled a bit, saying things that weren't really words. She grinned even more.

Finally things were beginning to look up. She'd been stuck in this house for so long, catering for the people hiding. But they never stayed long. Now that Luna was back she could start helping her with the house again (as it was her house) and Hermione could start going on missions again, but only short ones. She couldn't bear leaving little Matthew along for too long.

She grabbed her bag, making sure everything was there and she stumbled across a picture of Ron and Luna that was hiding in the depths of the bag. They had their arms slung around each other, Luna was kissing Ron's cheek, his ears were bright red as he smiled bashfully. She felt her heart swoop she was actually seeing them.

She turned to pick up Matthew from his highchair when there was a knock on the door. She frowned, she wasn't expecting anyone. The Order knew where she was going tonight. Did George mention something about him taking her there? Was she getting an escort? She opened the door and her heart sank as it revealed Ginny, her face stained with tears. "Ginny…?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"They took them," she said, her voice was croaky, "I went to the restaurant, it's burnt to the ground. Loads of bodies, all but theirs… and there was this note." She held out a piece of parchment which Hermione snatched it up. It only said two words on it.

_Nice try._

Tears started falling onto the parchment, the ink trailing from the words, making them less readable. Then sobs started crawling up her throat and Ginny's arms wrapped around her, she hugged back. The two woman clutched each other, crying over their loss.

* * *

><p><strong>19th September 2000<strong>

Tears threatened to fall as Hermione thought about it, shaking herself of the memory she ruffled Matthew's hair and said, "How about some dinner?"

"Ice ceam!" he cried.

"That's not dinner!" She laughed, it wobbled. Matthew pouted. "You can have ice cream later, alright?" He nodded, giving her a wide grin.

* * *

><p>Draco was lying in his room when the voices started, they were on the porch again and once again had seemed to have forgotten his room was so close. "I didn't know he was going to give you <em>that<em>," the female Weasley says, her voice portraying the shock and pain he can imagine that is on her face.

"It's the ring James gave to Lily," Granger murmurs, her voice is obviously clogged by the tears she is holding back. There is a silence before- "When did Ron give you it?"

"Day before he left for the mission. He told me that if he didn't come back by the time you turned twenty-one to give this to you." Another silence.

"Do you think he's dead then?" Her voice is small and weak. He's never heard her like this.

"I don't know… Surely they'd want to gloat it in our faces if they killed them?" No.

Granger echoes his thoughts, "No… I don't think so. It would be easier for us if we knew they were dead. But we're still searching aren't we? 'Wasting resources' as the Order thinks."

"Is it a waste then?"

"No." She now sounds firm.

"But what if they're dead?"

"What if they're not?" Her voice twinges with annoyance.

Pause.

Weasley speaks, "I fucking hate them. The Death Eaters. You-Know-Who. I'd say his real bloody name if it wasn't tabooed. I'm not afraid of him."

"I'm not afraid of him either. I'm afraid of what he can do to my loved ones." There is a silence. Draco agrees with Granger for once. Most Death Eaters are afraid of what You-Know-Who can do to _them_. But people like Granger aren't. They just love their families too much to do anything. They'd die at his hands but would do anything to stop their loved ones even getting injured in battle. He'd do the same for his loved ones, if he still had any.

He still feared for his own life unlike Granger but he would've died for his mother if he got the chance. He closed his eyes and focussed on breathing steady until the pain fades. During that time Granger and Weaslette have started talking again.

"We all miss them, Hermione. Don't feel like you're on your own."

"Well it's hard not to," Granger snaps, "I'm stuck here all the time. I'm left on my own for days on end. I know I have to and I'm doing it for a good reason but can't the Order get me some sort of help?"

"You know we're low on people…"

"And what about your mum? She just sits at home all day, she could help! She loves feeding people and-"

"Hermione, I don't think you-"

"I'm as much of a part of this war as you!"

"You don't get it Hermione. You need to be here for Matthew. He doesn't need a mum who's always away fighting evil forces. What if you died? He practically doesn't have a dad-" Ouch. "-he'd be orphaned."

It falls silent for a moment or two before Granger says, so quietly he can barely hear it, "For Matthew…" Draco frowns.

* * *

><p>As usual Draco was torn from sleep; he awoke gasping for air, covered in sweat. It took him a moment to remember where he was as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He felt like he was being suffocated again, the room was humid and stuffy. He threw the covers away, got off the bed, wrenched the door open and made his way to the back door. He sighed as cool air immediately swallowed him up, calming him.<p>

Then he heard the quiet sobs. Dread washed through him as he turned and saw Granger curled up on the ground, leaning against the house. She was clearly on the verge of sleep though her face was covered her sobs were tired and slowly dying.

He stood there frozen, contemplating on the many ways he could deal with this situation before he called her name. She jumped and looked up at him, her eyes were red and puffy but he could not mistake the anger and distain that was held within them. "Go. Away."

He didn't of course. He sat down on one the chairs facing her and said sweetly, "Well I'm sorry Granger. I just wanted a bit of fresh air."

"At three in the morning." Her voice was dead-panned.

"Better time than any." Her eyes narrowed. "Jeez what happened to Miss Gryffindor? I thought you were meant to be strong? Rather than the pathetic lonely girl I see here," he snapped.

"War changed people, Malfoy," she quipped, "I see you're not as great and mighty as you used to be. And may I remind you, you're in _my_ house. I could throw you out whenever I wanted to."

"I'd rather be living on the streets rather than waking up to your face," he muttered loud enough for her to hear.

She sniffled. "Go away." No long did her voice hold hatred but it was now half-hearted and it wobbled. "I don't have patience for you today."

"Still crying over your pathetic Weasel, I see." He knew he was crossing a line even before he said it; he repositioned himself so he could defend himself if she thought of attacking him.

Granger stood up her eyes flashing dangerously, "Say another word about Ron or any of my friends and I swear Malfoy you'd wish you were on the streets. And don't you dare call them pathetic, they're out there fighting. You're the one hiding in a muggleborn's house. If they're pathetic I can't even imagine what you are." She flicked around, heading for the door.

He clenched his jaw, refusing to give a reaction but then he said something very quietly but not quietly enough for her not to here, something he regretted as soon as he said it, something he was sure was already tearing her apart, "And what if they're already dead, Granger."

She froze. Her hand on the door knob tightened, her knuckled were white. "They're not dead." Her voice was small. He closed his eyes, no matter who she was, he shouldn't have stepped that far. He listened to the door open and close and then to her footsteps fade.

"Fuck," he muttered, leaning back against the chair.

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><p><strong>Do I get more reviews for posting before you expected it? It just brightens my day to see reviews, I love to hear what you think of the story and how the characters are developing. And once again thank you for you lovely reviews for my previous chapter! <strong>


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